


After-Mission Reflection

by ami_ven



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Community: writerverse, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-23
Updated: 2015-09-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 02:24:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4859534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a bad mission, Clint takes some time to think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After-Mission Reflection

**Author's Note:**

> written for LJ community "writerverse" prompts "fatality" & "kissing in the rain"

Clint knows that he should leave as soon as he’s released from the post-mission debriefing, that he should shower and change out of his uniform and probably get something to eat. It had been a long operation, even before it had all gone to hell, and he feels the ache of exhaustion deep in his bones. 

But he can’t think of anything except the impossible _should haves_ — he should have known there were more hostiles than he could see, he should have moved faster, should have gotten to Agent Dubois before—

It takes Clint a full minute after he gets out onto the roof to realize that it’s raining outside. It’s a warm rain, so he doesn’t even break stride as he heads for the wide stone edge of the building. He doesn’t even know why it’s affecting him so much. He’s been on other missions where agents died. Good, solid agents that he hadn’t personally known, maybe, but ones he’d been sorry were gone and wondered if he could have saved. But it was the first mission in a long time he’s been on in a long time without the Avengers, without at least Natasha and Coulson. Maybe he’s just used to working with super soldiers, alien gods and rage monsters, not regular humans who could be killed.

Clint knows he can’t possibly take the blame for Dubois’s death, but he sort of blames himself, anyway. Which is why he stays on the roof ledge, legs dangling over the side, letting the rain patter against his shoulders.

At least, until it’s suddenly diverted by an umbrella, followed by a solid, familiar weight leaning against Clint’s back. “Are you brooding or just thinking?” Coulson asks, voice still carrying traces of sleep.

“Thinking,” Clint replies. “What time is it?”

“Three. You only got out of the debriefing twenty minutes ago.” Of course he knows that, even if he’s clearly just been woken up. “Ready to come in yet?”

Clint twists under the umbrella to look at him, and grins— Coulson is wearing a faded Captain America t-shirt under an even more faded hoodie that Clint recognizes as his own. He wraps his hand around Coulson’s on the umbrella handle and pulls him in for a kiss.

“Yeah,” says Clint, when they break for air. “Let’s go home.”

THE END


End file.
